


The one where Camelot is an alien outpost in the Pegasus Galaxy

by soloproject



Category: Merlin (TV), Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Crossover, Gen, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:09:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soloproject/pseuds/soloproject
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is the military commander of Camelot and Merlin is Dr. Wraith-bait, an SGA-AU of Merlin.</p><p>All art by me. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The one where Camelot is an alien outpost in the Pegasus Galaxy

Arthur, for all intents and purposes, wasn’t in charge of Camelot for reasons he sometimes could not fathom. Gaius had often told him that was just his ego talking but it wasn’t his ego so much as his rightful place, as far as Arthur was concerned.

If he were to list the pros and cons regarding the running of the large military outpost in the Pegasus Galaxy, it would probably look like this:

 

PRO: He himself had an illustrious military career, despite his relatively young age.  
PRO: He was a phenomenally talented pilot.  
PRO: He was a natural gene user.  
PRO: He was a natural born leader who was trusted by his subordinates.

CON: He was the son of the most important military general of Stargate Command.

And that last one really trumped everything.

All in all, it probably wasn’t so bad that Morgana was put in charge of Atlantis. She was a born diplomat, the IOA liked her, SGC liked her and hell, Arthur liked her and she liked him back, even though they had a weird way of showing it.

Morgana had pull, Arthur admitted, and (next-to-the-last) say in all Camelot related decisions. And more important than that, she seemed to be able to sway the General Uther Pendragon—Arthur’s father, currently the top brass at the SGC—which was not an easy thing to accomplish, given her civilian status. But anything that kept the relationship between the civilian group and the military smooth was ultimately to their advantage.

Morgana was also incredibly steadfast, firm and unwavering and sensitive. This was why Arthur was absolutely gobsmacked when she started approving teams and it was all he could do not to strangle her for giving him the most ridiculous, clumsiest scientist on the expedition roster.

She was usually so practical and she _knew_ that _Arthur_ was the best of the best. Why she had assigned _Merlin_ , of all people, to SGCam-1, the first and _clearly_ , the most important, when he was the military commander and needed everyone to be as sharp as a tack on all missions, especially if they were going to be on his team, was so completely beyond him.

The thing was, Camelot loved Arthur. He loved it back but Camelot really, _really_ loved Arthur. It had lit up like a Christmas tree when they first moved in. It stroked Arthur’s ego in every way imaginable—steps lit up gratifyingly, doors opened and closed for him (as they should, Arthur thought, smugly)—as much as a large sentient Ancient outpost could without getting too weird, anyway. There were other gene users on Camelot, of course, but none of them were as natural as him and it was like a passive-aggressive slap to his father’s face, a blow he didn’t even have to deliver himself when Morgana had sat at the round table under Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado and pleaded, “Arthur’s the only one who can operate the command chair with ease.”

The throne, Arthur thought, crossing his legs and trying his best to look earnest, as Morgana wore General Pendragon down every way she could, just short of sitting on his lap and calling him daddy.

“Camelot needs him,” Morgana said, her huge blue eyes getting bigger and Arthur watched with hidden glee as General Pendragon eventually caved.

The fact that there would be an entire galaxy between him and his father was a major bonus, of course.

“You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Merlin,” Morgana said, evenly, leaning back in her desk chair and steepling her fingers in front of her face.

“So, I have to babysit him, as a reward?” Arthur scowled over the laptop with the roster list. Yes, Merlin had been the one to show him around the base on McMurdo, had tried to explain to him, in the simplest way he could what was going on, had pointed out the chair and had totally not stopped Arthur from sitting it in because—obviously— he was tired from sulkily flying his father in the helicopter over miles of ice.

Merlin had done all of this while stammering and turning bright red, of course but Arthur often had that effect on people. It was fascinating to see his giant ears turn red and his blue, blue eyes become almost feverish with excitement, especially when he turned to Arthur and said, “Think of where we are in the universe.”

So, yeah, Arthur probably owed him one.

The thing was, though, was that Merlin was possibly the strangest person he had ever met in his LIFE. He panicked a lot and was unnecessarily anxious. He was allergic to tomatoes, which was just silly; Arthur could not imagine a life where one could never eat pizza or spaghetti with tomato sauce, even though in space, it was more likely that it would be reconstituted or something.

“I’ve the pick of the lot, Morgana, and you’re giving me Merlin?” Arthur tried, even though he was aware he was now on the losing end. Morgana was unmoved, her mouth twitching as if she knew she was going to win this one.

“You wanted the best,” she said, shrugging.

“Give me Gawain or someone else to fill out the team.”

Morgana raised a slim eyebrow. Across the table, Guinevere and Lancelot looked back and forth between them, like watching tennis.

“Arthur,” Gwen said, her gentle voice a sharp contrast to her sharp eyes. “I know Merlin and he would be an asset. He is more resilient then you want to believe.”

“He blew up a solar system,” Arthur argued and crossed his arms.

Lancelot grunted, his hair tied back, giving him a surprisingly tame appearance. “He’s alright,” he tossed in before looking a little shifty, avoiding Arthur’s gaze.

Oh great, just bloody brilliant, even Lancelot was smitten by this Merlin creature. Lancelot, who barely talked, just followed Arthur or Gwen everywhere and did whatever any of them asked without question. This Merlin creature who had a reputation on Camelot for mixing sciences and following Gaius the CMO, around like a puppy and was rumored to talk to sea dragons on the lower decks of the fortress, where it led from the land to the sea.

“Fine,” Arthur gave in. “Fine, I’ll train him for offworld missions. I am not happy about it, though.”

“You never are,” Morgana soothed.

Merlin was absolutely dismal at hand-to-hand, at stick fighting, at running obstacles, lifting weights, fencing, and shooting. In summary, he was terrible about half the things that would ensure his survival during an off-world mission. Everything Arthur was good at, actually.

He was passable at hiding and keeping his head down and he had an incredibly low threshold for pain, it seemed, given the way he nearly cried when Gwen swept his legs under him and put him on his back for what seemed to be the thousandth time in a row.

“I’m just not good at any of this!” Merlin panted, looking at the ceiling while Arthur loomed over him, completely annoyed.

“Look, Merlin, the time will come when we all may be split up on MX3-49E and you’ll have to fend for yourself because Lancelot won’t be around to haul your ass and Gwen and I won’t be able to shoot things,” Arthur told him, exasperated.

“You mean, on the planet with all the friendly, miniature unicorn things?” Merlin said, sitting up gingerly.

“I don’t care what planet!” Arthur said, throwing his hands in the air. “Just that you’ll have to defend yourself when the situation calls for it!”

“You mean, when you’re not around to haul my ass,” Merlin grinned up at him, peering up from underneath his surprisingly thick eyelashes and oh no, there was no bloody way, that Arthur was going to fall for that.

“Is there anything you can do that could possibly use to defend yourself, so that you won’t be crying and pissing your pants whenever we encounter space vampires or shape-shifting sexy aliens? Anything at all?”

 

As it turned out, Merlin could:

\- Build the most amazing bombs that could deliver surprisingly exact degrees of damage.  
\- Create nigh impenetrable force fields.  
\- Fix just about anything in sight.  
\- Charm anything that seemed capable of sentient thought, not excluding plant-like forms and bug-like entities, with the friendly grins and twinkly eyes and a dark and surprisingly universal sense of humor.  
\- Cook.

That last one made itself very clear on J2X-TH6 when Gwen tried to whip together some kind of passable soup that had strange chunks in it that Arthur later identified as torn pieces of a blueberry-apple MRE. Merlin took one look at it and stood, beckoning to Lancelot and the two of them disappeared into the woods, returning not twenty minutes with some kind of rabbit-type creature which Lancelot quickly hacked into fillets and Merlin cooked over the fire.

“This is brilliant,” Arthur said, not knowing how hungry he could get until he had inhaled a whole shank of meat.

“What, you’ve never been camping before?” Merlin asked, looking pleased.

Arthur chewed thoughtfully. “The General wasn’t much for camping.”

“Oh,” Merlin said and looked away.

 

“Arthur to Merlin, come in. Come in, Merlin,” Arthur pressed his radio. “Merlin, where in blazes are you?”

“Yes, sire, ready when you are, sire,” Merlin said, over the channel. “It’s not exactly a nice stroll from the lower decks you know to the nearest transporter, you know.”

He reappeared later, looking flushed and happy, like he had just finished an incredible workout.

“Where were you?” Arthur huffed, crossing his arms as Merlin entered the briefing room.

“Talking to the sea dragon,” Merlin informed him, looking pleased as pie.

“You’re such a liar,” Arthur informed him right back.

 

A year passed on Camelot.

People came and went through the Stargate, offworld teams switched around but Arthur’s stayed intact and he knew that Morgana wanted sometimes to call him to her office just to bleat “I told you so” at him.

But then the Wraith came.

The Wraith was the number one bane of the Pegasus Galaxy and they had encountered them before, defending worlds and evacuating others when their lands had been culled. But there was a long period of quiet where the Wraith seemed to go into some kind of standstill and there wasn’t much Arthur could do about it, happy enough to sit through banquets and trading missions and escort the occasional alien princess from one palace to another. There were Genii to contend with and sometimes Replicators and some bandits who were incredibly slippery but they had always pulled through, in the end.

The Wraith, though, they were just creepy and also, formidable. There was nothing sexy about the Wraith or anything remotely interesting, except they seem to think Merlin was a tasty morsel and after the third time they’d nabbed him, Arthur was ready to throw down the gauntlet and be all, oh come on, what was so awesome about Merlin?

Here he was, full of all the youth and vigor that the Wraith seemed to like but of course if they caught him, he could totally bust out and destroy all their hive ships and be a decorated hero forever.

“He’s the weakest,” Lancelot pointed out.

“And the smartest,” Gwen added.

“Alright!” Arthur conceded. “Let’s all get into the jumper and get him back. God knows they try to absorb all his weakness and smartiness and his big ears and his stupid face and tiny, ineffectual, skinny little body!”

Lancelot and Gwen paused from where they were strapping on their tac vests and grabbing more weapons or whatever and looked up at Arthur.

“Why, Arthur,” Morgana said, voice coming in loud and clear through the radio where it had— _oh bollocks_ —been broadcasting on all channels. “I knew you cared.”

 

 _All in a day’s work_ , Arthur thought after they had landed the jumper, cloaked it, stalked through the forest for hours, killed some Wraith, killed more Wraith and stolen their dart and snuck onto the hive ship.

“That was easy,” Lancelot concurred, after Arthur rematerialized them in the dart bay.

“There is something wrong on this ship,” Gwen observed, hiking up her P-90. “I don’t think the Wraith here are all in agreement with their Queen. She feels very young,” and that was even creepier, the fact that Gwen could feel what it was the Wraith were feeling sometimes. Arthur really needed her to stop that, in case the feeling was mutual.

“Oh, there he is,” Lancelot said, while they were running through the halls. He gestured with his gun to a cell and sure enough, Merlin was there, looking gaunt and exhausted and really, really excited to see all of them. More excited than was usual.

“Okay, I built this thing, see,” Merlin hefted an extremely Frankenstein-looking box thing with wires poking out of it. “It emits some kind of hibernation pulse that knocked them all out. It knocked me out too for a bit but I came around fast, um,” and Arthur could see in the dim light that Merlin was a bit shaky.

“Did they put you on the enzyme?” Arthur reached through the bars and shook Merlin a little bit.

“Stand back,” Lancelot warned and then he and Gwen shot the cell door up all to hell. If the Wraith weren’t all having a nice nap, they would have probably descended on them by now but Merlin had assured them that it was going to be a while.

“Yes, the enzyme…it’s very stimulating, like caffeine but better!” Merlin stammered. Arthur grabbed him by the upper arm and dragged him down the hall, to the dart bay.

“How much did they give you, Merlin,” Gwen asked urgently. Beads of sweat popped along her brow and Arthur realized that she might be feeling whatever it was Merlin was feeling, amplified by the effects of the Wraith enzyme.

“Quite a bit, I gather…been missing for, what, three days? Four? They came every four or so hours, stick a needle in me,” Merlin was sweating bullets and they had to stop and duck into an empty room so he could fall to his knees and dry-heave a little. “I’m so thirsty,” he panted and Gwen pulled out a small canteen and brought it to his mouth. Merlin flopped onto his back and shook like a junkie.

“Arthur,” Gwen said, voice suddenly low and serious. “There is more you need to know. Merlin, he is…he is need of relief.” Her eyes flitted up at Lancelot, who nodded imperceptibly and turned away, looking grim. “If you would step out, I will…I will help him.”

Arthur looked at her, not understanding. And then he looked over at Merlin and did. Merlin was hard, the bulge obvious under the dirty and stained cloth of his khaki and blue BDUs. Arthur watched dully as Gwen crawled to Merlin and helped him to a sitting position, sliding behind him and patting at his hair, his chest. It was almost maternal and Arthur let his mind wander for a second, thinking of Merlin and three days of nervous agony and he could see it now, curled in the corner of his cell and rubbing his dick raw until his orgasm offered some kind of relief until the next dose that they would give him so he could—what? Fix their Wraith tech? It seemed inconceivable now.

“No,” Arthur said, reaching over and grabbing Gwen’s wrist, where it was sliding over his chest and trying to undo Merlin’s button. Lancelot had moved to the door, back firmly turned and facing the hall, ready to defend if anyone stumbled on them.

“No,” Arthur repeated. “I’ll do it.” His eyes met Gwen, steady and cold. He wasn’t going to let her do it because Gwen was good and she wanted to be with Lancelot. Merlin was his friend and his colleague and they were both from Earth, so it made more sense that he should do it, as leader of this team. It was his responsibility to watch out for his team.

Gwen had too much taken away from her in this Galaxy and Lancelot had nothing at all left of his world. All they had left was each other and he wasn’t going to let her go through that, despite her good intentions and Lancelot’s grim warrior-like acceptance of what needed to be done. They had to have something left that was theirs alone.

“Go to Lancelot and watch the door,” Arthur ordered and Gwen flashed him a grateful look, standing to go stand guard with Lancelot, whose back maybe radiated thanks as well but whatever.

“Okay, Merlin. Let’s do this fast,” Arthur said, taking Gwen’s place. He checked Merlin’s pulse and took note of how rapid it was, then opened the front of Merlin’s BDUs and cringed when he slid his hand inside.

Merlin was hard but what it really was was that he had jerked when Arthur touched him, either from the sting of rubbing himself dry or the fact that it was Arthur was something he didn’t care to think about.

“Alright, mate,” Arthur murmured into Merlin’s ear. “Quick and dirty, as you please.” Merlin gasped, head falling against Arthur’s neck and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, mouth moving wordlessly.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Arthur muttered, pulling his hand out to scrabble at his tac vest, pulling pockets open for the tiny bottle of sunblock he knew he had, being so fair-skinned and all. He located the product and emptied it, one-handed onto Merlin’s crotch. Merlin jerked again because the lotion was probably cold but it was easier now to slide his hand over Merlin’s erection and ease up and down until it warmed perceptibly.

“Alright, it’s definitely messier but at least it won’t hurt. I hope.” Arthur jerked him off carefully, paused at one point to let Merlin fuck his hand until he came and he held Merlin until he was done shaking.

“We have got to go,” Lancelot said. “The Wraith are waking up.” He fired off a couple of shots and then came over to help Arthur heave Merlin to his feet.

Merlin staggered as best he could, catching himself on Arthur’s arm and their eyes met for a second, a very pregnant second that nearly knocked Arthur off his feet, the rush of emotion so strong in the scientist’s eyes. Gratefulness, fear, embarrassment and desire, just a tiny speck of lust for him, for Arthur that was gone when Merlin’s head dropped down to his chest, weary.

The silence was admittedly heavy all the way to the jumper, all the way back to Camelot, up until they stumbled through the gate and Morgana was running down the stairs and throwing herself at Gwen and then at Lancelot, giving them tight hugs. And then she went to Arthur, tentatively and then ran a finger along Merlin’s brow as they hefted him onto a gurney. Gaius was clucking, shouting orders at the other medical officers, looking like a very fierce and angry, protective father and he shot Arthur a look that clearly meant he had some explaining to do.

Morgana listened, tight-lipped at briefing and then let them go, so they could all take showers, get some food and sleep. Arthur noticed that Lancelot and Gwen had very pointedly left out any part of Arthur having to help Merlin out and he was thankful for it, although he really wanted to punch Merlin’s lights out for making them all go through that, a purely selfish and irrational thought.

Instead, he went to his quarters and through of the look on Merlin’s face and at the way he looked, pupils nearly black under the influence of the Wraith enzyme and the emotions that bubbled to the surface after that. It twisted something in Arthur’s gut because of what he saw, aside from everything else, an intense loyalty in Merlin’s eyes, a promise that he would do everything for Arthur, even suffer humiliation and keep his mouth shut.

Camelot loved Arthur and Merlin loved Arthur and he was a bigger prat than he thought because he failed to see it.

 

Merlin was out of commission for two weeks. The first few days were awful, as he sweated the enzyme out of his system but Gaius, Morgana, Lancelot, Gaius, even Will, who was head of Engineering and Merlin’s only other friend, as far as Arthur knew were all there to hold his hand at one point or another. Arthur kept his distance, watching from behind glass or across the room, sitting in the shadows, at Merlin’s pale face when he was sleeping, mercifully sedated by Gaius.

“You’re a fool, Arthur,” Gaius said, looking over his glasses, looking tired. He handed off his clipboard to one of the nurses. “He wants you most of all.”

“As his team leader,” Arthur scoffed.

“As his friend,” Gaius said, his heavy hand landing on one of Arthur’s shoulders. “He was awake earlier; Gwen made him eat. But he asked for you. He asked if you were alright and to tell you he was sorry for making you worry.”

And that bloody well did it. Arthur stood and then marched over to Merlin’s bed and shook him until he woke up.

“Wake up, idiot,” Arthur said, shaking Merlin while the nurse who was keeping an eye on him waved her hands around disapprovingly.

“What?” Merlin mumbled, slowly waking up. He looked terrible and bruised but clean and foggy but he opened his eyes and looked at Arthur and smiled at him, as if he’d just been roused from a nap or something.

“You…you,” Arthur stabbed a finger into Merlin’s chest, sure that it was going to bruise. Merlin coughed and the nurse glared at him. Arthur glared back at her.

“It’s okay,” Merlin told her. “He gets off on being an incorrigible prat.”

“I do not!” Arthur protested and Merlin laughed, weakly.

“How can you laugh after all that?” He demanded, pacing along the length of the privacy curtain.

“I’m alive, aren’t I?” Merlin told him, leaning back on his pillows. “I knew you would come get me.”

The simplicity of the statement was infuriating. “And what if I didn’t? What if we just totally forgot about the whole thing and then listed you as KIA or whatever?”

Merlin shrugged. “You wouldn’t let that happen.”

“You are stupid, you know that? You made everyone near crazy with worry, running off with your Wraith shenanigans. If you had stayed close, you wouldn’t have been culled!” Arthur hissed at him, hands on his waist. “And you wouldn’t have been pumped full of Wraith enzyme and I wouldn’t have…wouldn’t have...” Arthur trailed off.

Merlin winced. “That bad, was it?”

Arthur swallowed, going back to that time in his head again. Merlin’s heartbeat, Merlin’s cock, heavy in his hand, those delicious, drug-induced noises he was making, the hazy, lustful way he looked at Arthur.

Merlin sighed. “We can forget about it. I was drugged and you stepped in so we could get out of there. We never have to bring anything more into it.”

“No. Be quiet, you big-eared moron,” Arthur half-sat on the edge of the bed, grabbed Merlin but those big ears of his and kissed him, trying to put as much apology as he could into the kiss because he would not be caught dead saying it out loud.

It was fairly chaste because they were really quite worn out, the adrenaline in Arthur that had been keeping him upright until that point dissipating. He kissed Merlin some more, thinking fuck-all to hell because whatever it was that Merlin was, he felt absolutely perfect, like watching the chevrons on a Stargate locking onto the right address and opening up into Paradise or the perfect hum of a jumper as it flew over the city of Camelot.

“Arthur,” Merlin said, into Arthur’s mouth. “Arthur, as much as I would like to get into this right now, I’m going to be useless for quite some time.” He yawned, turning his head so he could do it into Arthur’s shirt instead of in his face and Arthur rubbed Merlin’s jaw with his thumb. Arthur pulled away and pushed Merlin into the bed, pulling the blanket up to Merlin’s chest.

“This is not over,” Arthur told Merlin, who snuffled and passed out again.

After the Wraith, there were the Replicators and Merlin built the most beautiful bomb to save the city. After that, he was taken by the Genii and Lancelot told Morgana, in his limited vocabulary that there was not an unbroken bone left after they had busted Merlin out. And then Arthur had been tricked into marriage to a daughter of a very medieval planet and Merlin had to be talked down from sticking C4 up every orifice of that world and completely leveling it.

And then General Pendragon arrived in his shiny new Aurora-class ship he called _Excalibur_ and insisted on a tour of Camelot. Arthur was gratified to see that it didn’t light up for Uther as it did for him and Merlin watched him, discreetly, with an indulgent smile.

The _Excalibur_ left the next day, General Pendragon resplendent in its command chair.

“Goodbye, father,” Arthur said, saluting.

“You’re doing good work here, son,” Uther said and awkwardly hugged Arthur in front of the whole expedition, who tried to look in other directions. “I’m proud of you.”

“Oh,” Arthur said. “Thanks.” The ship rose into the sky. Arthur rubbed his eyes when he watched it and turned to see his team trying not to laugh.

“WHAT!?” Arthur roared and everyone scattered, until it was only Merlin left. They watched as the ship disappeared into the atmosphere.

“I want one,” Arthur sniffed.

Merlin patted his shoulder. “I know.”

“I would name it Valiant.”

“A good name.”

“And I guess I would give everyone rides.”

“Of course.”

They stood in silence for a while. “Let’s go back inside,” Merlin suggested and tugged at his hand. “Worlds to see, staff to bully.”

“I am not a bully!”

“Of course, I never said you were.”

“I’m not,” Arthur insisted, turning to kiss Merlin just after they stepped inside the transporter.

“I know you’re not. You’re just a stubborn, egotistical prat, is what you are,” Merlin smiled into the kiss.

“Good thing you’re like me so much, then,” Arthur groused, pushing Merlin against the wall of the transporter and kissing him hot and dirty until the door slid open and Arthur whipped away, looking totally put together and leaving Merlin looking utterly ravished.

“This isn’t over!” Merlin shouted at him. And it wouldn’t be, as long as Camelot loved them.

\- END -

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at http://midnight-city.livejournal.com/75583.html
> 
> Thank you, everyone. :)


End file.
